My ears were once bleached
by the harassing words of heartache,
concerning the abolishment of the romantic
from the society wherein I reside.
Even before this news bruised my cheek,
I had policies agaisnt honesty,
for nobody wants to hear the bluntness of a yearning heart,
craving lustrous affection. But your eyes
deceive the stereotypical remarks made by the mouths
of prior visitors, who complained that truthfulness
was barely bearable. I needlessly halter
my decision to use you as my own confessional,
and leap without second thought
into the midst of feelings I have arranged
so tidily for you, in suppressed linen bags
awaiting the trash receptacle. I have fallen
too many times before because of a pretty face,
but none were ever so inviting as yours,
and due to this, I know you are the cigarettes
I ought to never smoke; you are the hallucinogenic substance
I should not ingest. But my heart betrays
my other senses, readying itself to be executed
by your admittance, that you cannot return
the avalanche of feelings, buried deep within
my unwavering adoration. Your eyes,
like blossoming flowers,
flourish amongst the beauty of your soft complexion,
your lips, with every word
expelled from across your tongue,
urging my own to touch them. Your body, blessed
by a curvature
more sumptuous than any hourglass,
cannot possibly be ignored, my mind having castigated
me, each time I overlooked
the opportunity to admire your artful figure.
Your broken English serenades my heart
like the lyrics of Faye Wong,
your psychedelic voice
I could spend a hundred years or more
discovering you and your culture,
and even then, I would have barely breached the surface.
a mixture of introverted shyness
and spontaneous happiness,
coupled with your family-oriented heritage,
the respectfulness you bestow
upon all others, mirroring a soul of utter kindness,
that may still have thorns should I approach.
Your heart is not transparent enough
for my own to ascertain
whether your love already belongs to another,
and maybe this fear, that keeps me from walking towards you,
will become my eventual downfall.
Had I not been so restrained by abstract hesitation,
there would have been little spared sacrificing,
in order to have you selfishly to myself,
and in this moment of uncontrolled passion,
I would thrust you against the wall,
nibbling my way down your spine,
removing any garment
that dared deter my lips,
from going down on you.
Reluctance would be torn asunder
in the preoccupation of my dream,
and even if I had a thousand life times,
awaiting me like a rallying cry
at the moment of my passing,
one with you would surely be enough,
in which I make love to you every single night,
of that paradise you call a body,
before holding you close,
your bosom pressed against my chest,
your breath upon my ear.
But what luck is there
agaisnt the many barriers, that bludgeon
my conditional hope,
and though the admittance of defeat
is not an endeavor I longed to achieve,
I find any other option, is plagued by crippling doubt,
and as I whisper my goodbyes to you
in an almost inaudible tone, not wanting you
to ever know, from fear of the shame it might bring,
I announce secretly to myself: you, my dear, are perfect.
There are many poems written every day. This particular poem is about many different themes; this particular poem is about pain; sadness; loss; heartbreak; sorrow; the exploration of life; the human spirit; the strength of the human heart. But most of all, this is a poem about love; more importantly; falling in, being in and enjoying love. This poem is dedicated to and is about a woman, but not just any woman; this poem is about a woman that no man could ever possibly forget. Not always will this poem make sense, and at times it may even be contradictory, repetitious and obtuse, but always, always, will it be forever true. The human heart is an ocean of many, many different stories, and I would like to share with you, dear reader, one now. I do hope you enjoy this romantic tale as you ride upon the waves of this verse.
I just managed, I believe from a miracle, to successfully take back my health.
I’m so happy, I’m so heartfelt, I’m so hung over – I really just can’t help myself;
I need to confess something that has been weighing on my mind, there’s something I need to tell
someone, and it goes something like this; I could kiss you for hours on end when the rain fell,
I could hug you in the middle of a storm; I could keep you warm in the dark of the night,
I could look upon your beauty for centuries, I could stroke your skin come morning light.
I could take a photo of your flawlessness and hold onto it forever,
I could fight for you and die for you if it meant we could just be together;
I could serenade you with empowered words of love by day and cook you dinner when the moon arises.
I could grace you with everything, and even after a hundred years still astonish you with surprises.
I could board an aeroplane today and be with you tomorrow just to give you a kiss,
and confess, that never have I tasted anything as sweet as your crimson lips, young Miss.
You know that feeling – when you have lost love, and then you find it again in the heart of another oh so rapidly?
That feeling – that intense, obnoxious, amazingly fantastical, intense feeling is what has overpowered me.
I was lying down in the centre of the empty suburban street one night – love had officially hung up on me,
when I suddenly received a call – and upon answering, guess who spoke – a woman of unbelievable beauty!
She was older than I, and with the exception of two amazing times I had never fallen for an older person,
but I tell you, struck down, by lighting I was, for I could not, and still cannot, quit thinking about this beautiful woman.
Maybe I ain’t as strong as I would hope, after all, I ain’t built from metal and other strong stuff.
I try to get close to you, young lady, but every time I do so it ain’t nearly close enough,
for I cannot let you go. I look up at the clear dark night, and I can see the moon,
and I know you can see her too, and I hope the two of us can be together soon
for when either of us look up at the great sky from where we are, whether it be day or night it is always the same. If that’s the case, then we both must be on the planet Earth,
and so it would be just so easy, wouldn’t it, for us to meet somewhere? You can set the location, I really don’t care where; be it Washington, London, Tokyo or Perth.
In the end, unlovable is but one word that can describe a fallen soul,
and it is a word that can describe me for instead of a heart, I’ve a hole,
for pain is the unrelenting punishment that is forced upon me as a result of being alive,
and I have come to realise that sooner or later the pain will win out and I will not survive.
Perhaps that’s for the better. Maybe when I’m dead and gone nobody will grieve, and nobody will cry,
and maybe there will be many a happy person on the planet Earth on the day that I do die.
Perhaps every acquaintance I’ve ever met will feel a sense of joy running up and down their spine
which will alert them to the arguably obvious fact that the death they felt was indeed mine.
In the eyes of some certain people I may be a hideous, unpopular, unlovable creature,
and perhaps if I be honest I may say that I might not be blessed with a single attractive feature,
and like I said before, maybe death be good, for there is honestly without a knowable doubt nothing left,
for my heart is broken and barely operating and I remain barely human and utterly bereft.
As a man myself, I can speak from experience; once you fall out of love, you always set your sights on the one woman you cannot acquire.
In your eyes, I want to be seen as a man with an actual heartbeat and a possibility for romance rather than a feared pariah.
I am not asking you to fall in love with me at first sight, but I am asking for a single chance;
not to experience a fairytale, but to have a stereotypical legitimate romance
which is quintessential to the soul. Human beings in general are social creatures, I know this for a fact,
which is why, even after so much pain and bludgeoning, my heart and soul have remained totally intact
as to have a relationship once more. Perhaps this time it will be forever, perhaps this time it will be with you,
and I hope that in the very near and hopefully possible future you might be able to feel the same way too,
for I have been in love before, and I am aware of this just as I am aware of my constant heartbeat,
and whenever I see you I have this powerful feeling which begins in my chest before it consumes me from my head to my feet.
I can understand if this sounds absurd, but I have no intention of ever hiding the truth in regards to love, and my feelings I will not deny,
and to be with you, I will do anything that you ask; I will plead; I will beg; I will write; I will draw; I will with pleasure live; and I will gladly die.
It all began with a blog on the social media platform known only as WordPress.
Never in all my years did I believe the content that I had developed could impress
the eyes of a beautiful woman to come looking over all that I had done,
and in that specific moment my heart, you, young lady, had officially won
and so, in regards to your own meticulous work, I became a loyal, unflinching follower,
one of oh so many it would seem. It was not long after I was transformed into a lover
of your face; of your smooth features; of your sacred flesh. My eyes, they lit up like a great menagerie of fire-
flies transcending across the sky in the darkness of the night as I looked upon the woman I now desire
with an untold passion that burns more brightly than the sun, creeping across the horizon in the wee hours of the morning,
and just like that, my heart cried out for something impossible; it cried out for something more as a new love affair was dawning
upon the path that is my life. I knew then just as I know now that these feelings are never going to leave.
I assure you, you can trust me and my many words; all you need do is look into my eyes and believe.
Love is love I say, and so do many others, and love is but hard to find;
love is the one thing that is always without question on my heart, soul and mind
when I think of you. What name could have hath been given to a woman of such brilliance, a woman who in a million years I could not forget?
What emotions could be conjured by the heart of a romantic? However we are just friends for the moment, I swear, nothing has happened yet.
Love is always and forever the one intended endeavour, it is the only necessary task
to gain, and when someone finally discovers their one and only, people poke them with questions and ask
‘are you having fun yet?’ and the answer always is ‘yeah, yeah’.
People always warn me about love, they say ‘buyer beware’,
but I can take care of myself, really, I can take care of my own,
is it too much to ask for some love, I am tired of being all alone
and I would do absolutely anything to succeed in this fruitful desire
and prove how I’m capable of being your man, of being your merciful messiah.
Cupid visited me in my dreams last night; she didn’t look the way I had thought
she might as she instructed me that there was something that I absolutely ought
to do with my life, which included; settling down, finding a good job and acquiring a partner;
a girlfriend, an individual who was more than excellent to be my one significant other.
When I awoke this morning I could not possibly fathom if the plan had been set in motion,
all I knew was that if my heart was anything it was a terrifically wide, deep blue ocean
that is willing and able to belong to something good, like a passionate relationship, someone new,
like a young woman beyond anything upon this planet we call Earth, and I know that woman is you.
I realise I have not done what was supposed to be initially orchestrated,
for it is something different entirely that I have undoubtedly promulgated,
for Cupid had intended for me to have a grand relationship with an Australian,
and instead I wish to have be romantically involved with a certain Arizonian.
There was a time when angels would walketh the Earth, and still they do as depicted by the image of this gorgeous American
from Phoenix Arizona, who has undeniably captured the loving heart, mind and eyes of this Australian citizen,
for my soul will be but forever forfeit if my soul will be not always yours,
and I would do anything to hold you, to kiss you and to do other things and more,
for the word ‘gorgeous’ is but a word, and it barely scratches the surface of your physicality,
and I don’t think a word hath been invented to articulate what you will forever mean to me.
There was a time once when I was unsure what you were to me, but no longer do I have to make my heart choose,
for I want you in my heart, there’s nothing left to say, for I could never just have you as a plausible muse.
To hide this huge secret of mine, I could provide to you a suitable pseudonym rather than to call you by your actual name,
for such does not matter to me because regardless of your identity, masquerade or not, I would personally still feel the same.
I am at a crossroads; I hope my words don’t seem too expensive ma’am, and I hope they don’t sound too cheap,
because your intricately stunning and elegant beauty, it runs so intoxicatingly deep.
My heart is a dictionary on everything in regards to passion,
for my heart is as wide and free as the never ending, open ocean,
and I can promise there is nothing I am not aware of, there is not a thing that I do lack,
and all you need to do is say the word and I’ll gladly follow you, my darling, to Hell and back,
cuz you are an exotic paradise I have never had the opportunity to explore,
and the loving dream I had last night of being with you, I long to have right down to the very core
of my beating heart. Within the dream last night, I was lost within one helluva escapade;
I had in the process of seeing you lost both my mind and my head from where they had once laid
atop my neck. Upon waking I was happy; I wanted to return, and I’ll say again, I will follow you to the ends of this Earth,
because of everything that I have ever seen and have experienced, of everything that I am aware of, you are undeniably worth
it. All that is required from you, my dear, is that you call my name, and upon doing so, I’ll gladly be there,
be it any place on the atlas, any time of the year, or absolutely, unequivocally anywhere.
I have known you for only a couple months, but a couple months are all I will ever need
to quench my undeniable thirst for loving romance, to bring a stopper to all my greed
for a heart to be connected romantically only to mine for the rest of time,
and to enjoy the kind of love found in a fairytale or in a nursery rhyme.
I could follow you without question to the ends of this Earth
for your words, like treasure, have an unquantifiable worth,
and your photos that you choose to share and upload to your blog frequently make me smile.
If I had the digits for the All Night Radio Love Line their number I would dial
and I’d ask them to play the song ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden
for you to hear, cuz my beating heart you have without permission taken,
for I was powerless against you with your words of wisdom and your looks of beauty.
Miss; would you ever consider going out on a date with a guy the likes of me?
I listen to the living world around me; to its traffic; to its cities; to its nature; to its ambience,
as I gaze into the affectionately passionate eyes of unequivocal, virginal innocence
that can be described as a sweetness of extraordinary prowess that cannot be tamed,
which belongs to the truest of all true beauties, that cannot ever on paper be named.
If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, then I do suppose all the flower’s in the world I would need to pluck,
and if you blow a man a kiss from your crimson lips, I hope only for his sake, he’d better know to immediately duck,
because if your looks can captivate anyone, then imagine what just one kiss could do,
for there is nobody else in this world who I know to be quite as ravishing as you,
for I have seen your life written in photos, drawings and literature within the pages of your great blog,
and it always breaks through the walls around my heart, the brain barriers and the many immense layers of fog
that exists within my mind. Your words are always warm and inviting, and your photo’s are exceptionally great,
and I don’t know if I ever did believe in angels in Heaven, but after looking upon your face, I certainly without a doubt believe in fate.
I have never met you, and I probably never will,
but even with this said, my feelings, they grow stronger still.
I’d ask if we might have dinner, if it wasn’t an issue,
see, the one thing in all the world I want, is spelt ‘y’, ‘o’, ‘u’;
but dinner is not ever going to be option for there’s an ocean in the way,
we won’t be having dinner tomorrow, we won’t be having dinner any other day.
I’ll admit, perhaps I’m totally crazy, I realise that I’m a fool,
for I know I’m probably not that popular and I know I ain’t that cool,
but even with these many words writ and read, I want with you something special; an unbelievably amazing romance
that could sweep you off your feet, and I’d say ‘screw it’ to anything that stood in my way for I’d give everything for a chance
to kiss your oh so unfathomably gorgeous crimson lips on a starry moonlit night;
I know I’m not awesome, but perhaps I can prove that I’m the one; that I’m your Mr. Right.
‘Kiss me darling’ I would say to you, ‘touch me’, ‘let me know I’m real;
you are all I truly want, and all that I long to do is feel
your beating heart’, for you are all I ever seem to care
about, and to have you, I call upon the winged prayer
of a Heavenly angel, and I call on Jesus Christ himself
to give unto me the power and to provide to me the wealth
to offer you a marvellous life filled with all you will ever truly need,
and to have you, I’ll face off with the volcano’s edge and I will burn and bleed,
for I must admit, I am through with this façade, this fabrication if you will, and no false truth will ever make do,
than to have the single most gorgeous woman on all the Earth in my arms today, to forever and always have you,
because I do not dare wish to be relegated to a forgotten bitter memory in your eventual past or visualised as just another Facebook friend,
but at the same time I am morbidly terrified that by making any sudden moves, whatever I already have with you may come to an unforeseeable end.
Have I spoken out of just term? Have I been impolite and said too much?
Sometimes I can be like that, being a soporific romantic and such,
but do not ever think my words aren’t real, don’t ever think they are not true;
do not think for but one second that I do not have strong feelings for you.
For I write this piece filled with many rhymes and stanzas for you and only you,
and perhaps I should not confess to this, but I haven’t said all that I want to,
for there’s unfortunately still much weighing upon my heart and still there’s much weighing on my chest;
I must say all that needs to be said, else I promise I will never again be able to rest,
and although there’s but a couple sentences left, due to their content, I wish to say them to you in person.
I wish that the opportunity I seek indeed had the possibility of coming to fruition,
for certain words are better spoken rather than scrawled across the page from several hundred miles away;
and what I wish to express begins and ends with this promise my lady, ‘I will love you every day.’
I feel you are level headed, or is that fear that I be feeling whenever I passionately think of such rare beauty,
who I fear may take one look at the stanzas past and present and may begin to loathe, and perhaps even be frightened of me.
On that note, just remember, I’m a Scorpio, and like any good scorpion I might be aggressive but I will love you forever;
we don’t have to passionately kiss; we don’t have to lovingly hug; we don’t have to romantically touch; we don’t have to be together
because my feelings will never change. I remember everyone I have loved, and I still love them with all my heart and my soul,
and you, young lady, needn’t ever be jealous or scared, because you are the one piece that I require to be heart and whole,
for I really truly love you, more than you could ever fathom, believe or even know;
my only wish is that there was a way to let my uncontrollably strong feelings show.
I do not mean on a piece of paper, or over the internet; I am way past that;
I want to stand beside you and temporarily remove from you your broad brimmed straw hat,
so I could have direct access to your face, and touch your skin with my fingertips,
and just when I believe things couldn’t be any better I’d gently kiss your lips.
If I were to suddenly find myself at the end of my life’s journey on the hour of my death,
the last words I want to say that linger upon my rich, rose coloured lips as I take my last breath
would be your name, before you bestow upon me with your crimson lips an amazing kiss of life,
that immediately removes from me and my existence inevitable impending strife
as to allow me the gift of living just a little longer to look upon your beauty some more.
I can assure you, although I don’t know how, you are the love of my life that I have been searching for,
but for now, I will hide my feelings where they cannot be seen or found, and I will simply pretend,
that I am not infatuated with you, no, I’ll make myself look like another blogger friend
until the day I am given the opportunity to tear down this unshakable masquerade,
and in my heart on this blessed occasion will be held a terrifically romanticised parade
unlike any other, that will put every romanticised event of the heart held before it to immeasurable shame.
I only wish, that if this were a love story, as I wish it were, that at the end, like a fairytale, your gorgeous heart I could claim.
You, my lady, are like gravity; you are like the wind; you are like the air
I breathe. I can never see you, but I know deep down that you are always there,
and if you were to concentrate, you would feel me too; that gentle warmth running across your shoulder –
that is me holding onto you, soothing you, pleasuring you, as the nights grow a little colder,
for you look upon the same moon as I, and your face is illuminated by the exact same sun,
and just like I know that these words I write are one hundred percent whole and true, I know you are the one
for me. But perhaps you have been hurt, and if such be true, I do apologise, but what you hypothetically had with a last partner was not love,
so I beg of you, blame it only on the man who was a fool to ever harm such fair beauty, but blame it not on the Heavens in the sky above
for the horrific pain that your little heart should not have had, but was forced to endure
every waking minute, for true love is all you’ll ever need-true love’s the only cure
to your pain. Now, I realise I don’t know you as well as I should – in fact I probably don’t know much at all really, but I do know one thing to be true;
young lady, I really, truly, undoubtedly, unfathomably, passionately have the strongest of all strong feelings for your heart, because ma’am, I love you.
I cannot imagine that you were ever born on Earth, so I guess you must be a member of fairer Heaven,
for I am but a shipwreck stranded at sea, and you are my lighthouse guiding me home; my precious blonde haired beacon.
I fear I have been without a certain someone, a certain paramour, for far too long now, and in doing so perhaps my words are sounding desperate,
and this in turn may be why I have decidedly fallen for the woman whose beauty is so astronomical that she deserves the certificate
for been the most beautiful woman in all the known universe, and on the night that you do win, so would be a time for the most expensive wine
to be drunk in cause of this epic celebration, for never was there a woman so elegant, so luscious, so amazing or so divine.
I wish that I, like Peter Pan could fly up towards the Heavens, and that you young lady, could be my Wendy, or perhaps a Tinkerbell,
for never would there be a better story than the one about how I feel for you, never would there be a story I would want to tell
more so than this, for I cannot help but want you, even if I initially only wished to have myself a gorgeous muse,
because out of the three billion something women in all the world around us, you are the one I would always happily choose
to be forever mine. My only wish is that you quit writing; no more journaling; no more poetry; no more prose,
for you writing is so seductive; second thoughts, please keep writing, for I could not live without your words I do suppose.
I wonder if there could ever be a time when you could look back and remember who I was.
Maybe I would have meant something to you deep inside, maybe not too. I only ask because
you’re gorgeous, you really are; never in all my years have I had the pleasure of having a fairer face reflected in my hazel pupils,
and when I think of you my heart beats faster, I find it hard to breathe, and certain parts of my body become harder, including my nipples.
Moreover I do believe I know the identities of a couple other men who have fallen in love with you;
there is a boy in a hat, a man whose name starts with a ‘D’ and a few others who have remained anonymous too.
Now, hypothetically, if you were to choose to have a romance fuelled relationship with one of us (I know you won’t, but sill, if you were)
please, I implore you to take my advice when I say; choose any man that you wish, for that is your prerogative, just don’t choose this young sir.
I do not say such words with confidence, nor do I say them with ease, but with a heartbreakingly weak sigh,
for I believe these men could offer you more, and maybe have more love in their hearts, and with that thought, goodbye.
If there’s one thing I want you to realise, it’s that I love you, this I need you to know,
because it is said by many a man that when you love someone you have to let them go.
I wonder if the someone I am writing about here is reading these words right now.
My powers of prediction are less than adequate, but I wish this were true somehow.
‘Neither of us have met’ you might state, before asking ‘how can you fall for someone who lives on the other side of the world?’
and I would graciously reply in response ‘you are intelligent, you are so gifted, you are cute and you are a girl;
that’s all I’m looking for, that I’m certain of, that’s what I know,
so, please don’t leave me be, please, young lady, do not let me go.’
I wish there was zero chance of you leaving me behind and quite the opposite of you staying where you are, but I know that’s just reckless, blind, hope,
masquerading as the impeccable ability that which I have ignorantly and egotistically created that can help me cope.
I agree; my feelings may be a lot of things – delusional, deranged, insane perhaps – but they need no explanation,
for in all the world; in all its beauty; in all its contents; in all its uniqueness, you are my wanted destination,
for I feel that I need you the way I need to breathe; the way I need to drink; the way I need to eat and I am certain that all of you reading this can relate when I admit how I have a constant dire need for oxygen,
just as I have a dire need for you. As for your identity, here’s a clue; your name begins with the third letter of the alphabet, or perhaps the tenth; other than that, I ain’t admitting to anything without a reason.
You can’t make someone love you; it’s an unfortunate fact I’ve found, but someone can make you love them with but a twitch of their eye,
or perhaps a smile, a light hearted giggle or an intelligent quote, and then you know without them, your heart and soul will die.
Upon finding you, I will love to run my hand through your exotic hair and stare into your utterly ravishing blue eyes,
that are as clear, flawless and amazing as the Heavens that hang above me, and the never ending cloud free cerulean skies
and even though the truth might always times infinity be that we are a couple hundred thousand miles apart,
the distance, it don’t really matter, for there is nothing ever between us because you are always in my heart.
I’d run a thousand miles just to hear you say my real name, for you know I’m not a ‘Derek’, no, I’m a ‘Nicholas’,
and even though my words may seem oddly strange, I can forever assure you that my feeling’s ain’t ridiculous.
Now, I know I’m not the only man who feels such feelings; there are many men who crave you, and they number in the millions,
and every single one of them is vying for your gorgeous beating heart, your flawless love and your undying affection.
However, I will want them to know, that I am a ravenous wolf, hungry for passionate love, and without you my dear, I will eventually starve,
and I am so greedy and conniving that I do not wish to share you; I want you alive and whole and I irrefutably refuse to go halves.
Many a man on this Earth will dream of something, and my dream is to be with you. I will be but yours, all you hath do is say the word and you can have your way with me and do with me what you will.
Like a plastic figurine, you can contort my frame into a menagerie of odd shapes; you can twist and turn me in and out, and if it shall be your command you could harm, injure or even kill
me, for as long as I am with you, any moment will be but beautiful, for we both shall be side by side,
and nothing could make me feel more alive; nothing could be more magical; nothing could provide me with such pride
and happiness as I am girt by your love, and you with mine forevermore in a moment truly more marvellous than anything imagined
by anyone with a creative heart, soul and mind, because I do not believe such would be pure happenstance; I believe we are but destined
to be together. However, proven am I, a romantic already, and I fear my heart be but contaminated with such failed logic,
but even with such written words placed upon this blank page, I know deep within myself that to be with you tonight would absolutely do the trick.
But could you ever truly lower yourself to be with someone of lower standing, aptitude and grace,
who would gladly come after you with all that he has, but if the tables were reversed, you would not give chase,
because you are you and I am me and I tremble with real fear at the general idea that the angel Cupid did not want for me to feel emotions that were ever quite so powerful, quite so delusional, or quite so wild,
but just know – if you ever want to love a man who you can rely upon to never fall out of love with you (unless Tara Mokhtari falls for me which is highly unlikely), just call the name of this lover, just call for Derek Childs.
Ma’am, I am no Roman Payne; I ain’t no Brad Pitt, and I am no Ryan Gosling,
and by the conclusion of this day, I will not be the man you shall be kissing.
Like all the other many men infatuated with you, we be but early foot soldiers in the war for your love,
for never was there a more beautiful woman in all existence than the one who hath fallen from Heaven above.
Like a falling star, you bring about many a positive feeling, a sense of hope and longing and all round good fortune,
and I take my one and only opportune chance to make the wish I dream to be mine beneath the light of the crescent moon,
in the hope that one day perhaps I could be an object of desire, longing and affection in your handsome heart,
and if good luck be bestowed upon me, forever shall a love affair be kindled and never shall we be apart,
because I do believe that a dream depicting you would be beyond delightful, but a life with you would be oh so much better,
because I cannot imagine anything more fascinating than spending time with the young woman I want to be with forever,
because you truly are, as far as I can honestly tell, without a single flaw you inhuman Godlike seductress. I do not just think such thoughts, I know them for a fact, because you are physically, mentally and spiritually beautiful, and have a beautiful soul and smile as well, and I find myself wondering, would you too be a beautiful kisser?
I would very much appreciate the opportunity to taste the flavour of your kiss and discover the truth of this for myself, but I definitely doubt that anyone as amazing as you could be anything but fabulous in this regard, for there has not ever been a woman who captivated me so the likes of Lady Ginger.
I may have to warn you now before you acquire the wrong impression, I have always been attracted to women who were a little older,
and the intense feelings I have for you dear heart linger on inside me like an immovable object; an incredibly ignoramus boulder,
for you have captured my love heart effortlessly and now with all your talent, you perform like an eccentric ballerina upon its centre stage,
and at day’s end I’m certain of love and I realise I don’t care about the differences, just as I know it would be impolite to ask your age,
just like it would be deviously nefarious of I to ask about your religion; your culture; your background,
besides, none of this affects nor concerns me because true love and beauty I have inevitably, finally found,
but in any case, I do not give a darn about the multitude of differences that separate us so, and all I really care
about is you, always and forever unto the end of time, I will love thee; the woman with the radiance of a solar flare
and I need not stress again how deeply I feel for you, cuz I’ve stressed it numerously over the course of this truthfully honest piece.
I probably have no need articulating your beauty as I already have and my feelings are obviously not going to cease,
and now, I add, this mild mannered man, this dubious author, this aspiring poet, will ask that you please,
consider granting me the chance, and allow me to be your lover, your fighter, your heart’s romantic disease.
I swear to you, I will not ever go quietly into that good night
and I will not ever give up without putting up a tremendous fight
until I have confessed to you all that is weighing so heavily upon my body, heart and mind,
regardless of whether you feel my words are redundant for within them the truth you shall always find.
However, I will admit to you now, I don’t know how to articulate my feelings, I don’t know what to say,
all I know is that you are beautiful; you are incredibly sweet; you are attractive with a capital ‘A’
and a gargantuan explanation point at the end, and I know that what I am feeling is love, I am absolutely sure,
and I am unequivocally certain that in all the world, no one else could ever have such strong feelings or ever love you more,
even though you speak of already being in love. If this be true, then my heart is weighed with much sorrow as I confess that your lover, he is a very lucky guy,
and I hope he realises this, for many a man would agree that it would be so easy to make the decision to do anything, even if that meant to die
to be where he’s standing now – with you; the single most gorgeous woman in all the world, both physically, spiritually and every other way imaginable. I do not say these words lightly; I speak only from the heart and my heart does not dare develop wild illusions nor ever communicate with a forked tongue.
Even if you do not accept me, and I am certain that you won’t and I understand why, I will have you know; a millennia from now someone may read this verse, and in these words they will read of you; your beauty; your intellect; your graciousness; your skills; for in this verse you are, forever and always alive – and young.
The conclusion; the epilogue if you will; the final piece of the puzzle must always be as elegant as the story that came before it as to allow the reader to feel complete. I haven’t the words to succeed in this endeavour, so allow me to simply write; if you have a certain someone that does not know how you feel for them – be sure to tell them you are in love tonight.
Thank you for reading these words dear reader.
SYNOPSIS: The title of the piece no doubt gives the story of this poem away.
Now, I would like to firstly state that this poem contains many sexual references and some coarse language. On top of this, people of a Persian or like background may find this poem culturally derogatory, and I apologise for that. I realise that people of such backgrounds are quite subtle in their relationships and stereotypically do not believe in such vivid sexual ideologies, not until marriage at least and I would like to say that I do not deliberately go out of my way to attack people of such a background. On another note, I do not mean to insult Prostitutes either. I’m not sure if I actually do so, but many of the themes brought up involve such a line of work and some people who either are, were or are not a part of this career may find it derogatory. Adjunctively, I do not mean to seem misogynistic, and I apologise again if my writing in any way seems to be so.
Basically, if you are easily distraught by anything to do with the themes mentioned I would not read this. But if you do, I hope you enjoy it.
I’m in a bar; I’m alone, and it’s just another cold summer’s night,
just having a drink and a laugh, work was a war; it was a fight.
Suddenly, I look across the room and see you seated there,
whilst I wish to run my hand through your ravishing dark brown hair.
You have a terrifically crafted face, and magnificent matching eyes;
just admiring your body I know, you’ll be a sexual paradise.
My attention is then drawn towards your sexually alluring clothes,
the same kind of attire worn by sexual deviants and ho’s.
With that in mind, I can’t believe I’ve fallen for a woman quite like you.
I’ve a family; a wife, but you’re the only woman I want to do.
You smile that smile, despite the job you do;
cuz you love it when men say ‘I love you.’
It may not be real, and they may actually mean ‘thank you’, but you like it all the same.
It is the only time you ever hear such words, cuz no man has ever learnt your name.
But I want more from you than you should ever expect,
because in my eyes you are absolutely perfect,
and I know this may sound crazy, cuz no man has ever seen past your career.
Being unable to ever see you again, is the only thing that I fear.
And even though you cannot read between the lines to realise what is true,
please my darling, believe me when I say, I will be there to always love you.
I walk up to you and ask ‘young lady, do you wanna fuck?’
Please, could you say ‘yes’, cuz ‘I’m good, I’m good; I’m good for a buck.
I want to feel you on top of me; I want to feel you on top of me right now,
I’ve got to be with you tonight, and I honestly don’t give a shit as to how.
I know you have a busy schedule but if you could just give me an hour,
you would not regret this decision my dear; my lover; my gorgeous flower.’
And you reply ‘boy, if you cannot do it in a minute,
then you should just walk away right now and simply forget it.
I need to feel the speed, I need to feel the love –
I need to feel as though I’m in Heaven above.’
My temperature was beginning to heighten; it was beginning to soar,
other men had taken notice and asked ‘what? You mean you want this filthy whore?’,
and to them I reply; ‘I want to go where so many men have boldly gone before,
I do not care about any of your past lovers, cuz I will love you so much more.’
To me you are more than just a woman, more than just another working girl;
to me you are the single most beautiful prostitute in all of the world.
You were as black as the night, yes, that’s right girls and boys, like the night she was black,
the white women in my life don’t do it for me, I just gotta get her back!
Perhaps in this life of mine I’ve always wanted a Persian Prostitute like you.
You happen to be the only one of whom I know, and you will gladly make do.
Other men come up to you, and they ask ‘please, fuck me baby; you whore; you bitch’,
then I turn and ask you; ‘please, come with me and scratch my twenty nine year old itch.’
You raise an eyebrow at this comment, and are unsure of what to say,
believe me baby when I tell you, ‘whatever you want, I will pay.’
You reach down and grab hold of my dick, as I begin to sigh,
then you pull back and remove your hand as I cry ‘why, oh why?’
You cry ‘get that volcano that’s ‘bout ready to erupt away from my hole,
you ain’t gettin’ that thing near my body, no, you ain’t gettin’ it near my soul.
I want a whirlwind romance that can forever truly endanger my health;
you can’t provide, so I guess you’re just gonna have to go erupt by yourself.’
I whinge; I complain; I flail my limbs above my head in the hopes that you will see;
that you are the only woman in the whole universe who can titillate me.
‘I want to make love to you down by the pier, so please, let’s drive down to the docks
where I can ease my way inside you, and your vagina can massage my cock.
I want to hear you howl and scream tonight as I make love to you,
and as I do so, I’ll confess my feelings – and I’ll mean them too.
I moreover dream; and I long, of taking you into my bed,
where I can fulfil the fantasises that reside inside my head.’
You look towards the other horny men and you realise they are all so bad.
I am so happy when you choose to spend the night with me instead; I’m just so glad.
End Note: I would like to say that I have never actually being with a Prostitute. I don’t know what that does for my image after writing such a piece, but I wanted to make that clear in case I seemed at all ignorant in my depictions. Thank you for reading.
SYNOPSIS: Outline, of what one can only hope to be the start of a beautiful romance. May contain a sexual reference or two.
Drum roll please. A beautiful woman sits there at the bar, like she often does, drinking an ice cool margarita.
I say to my friend ‘do you dare, do you dare, do you dare go talk to that beautiful, light brown skinned signorina?’
He dares, yes he dares do that which so many people believe cannot be done. He dares, yes he dares to do the unthinkable,
and go talk to that lady, yes, that lady, you know the one, who is in every possible way beyond this world beautiful.
He stammers, he stutters, he looks like a fool, before he finds his perfect line; the one that gets ‘em every time,
but not this time, I however fear, for she ain’t the kind of gal to be captured by a mesmerising rhyme.
‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. Yeah, yeah, yeah, screw you buddy, I ain’t that kind of girl, no I am not, it’s just hearsay.
Don’t believe everything you hear’ she explains, ‘don’t do nothing stupid, don’t do nothing that’s gonna piss me off today,
cuz if I need a man, I need a gentleman, and he had better be the kind of man I can settle down with and live beside,
cuz I’ve lost a lot in my past lives. I’ve lost friends, I’ve lost family, and the one thing I can’t afford to lose no more is my pride.’
Damn! My boy has been shot down in flames; he’s burnin’ in the centre of the bar. His head, it is just so red, I don’t think he’s comin’ back from that one. Whoa! What a bust,
but I have to say, if that beautiful lady cannot be won over by his flattery and by his words then I’ve certainly gotta have her, oh yes I must,
for there is more to her than meets the eye. I’ve a craving for someone like her, someone whose description defies the realms of Heaven, Hell and Earth;
someone who was destined to be the Queen of Aces, to be every little thing that she could ever truly be from the moment of her birth.
‘Is it so wrong?’ I enquire aloud, ‘to think and to dream, of this fabulous, tattooed blue eyed black girl?
Is it wrong, to want to take her, and give to her everything, yes, everything, including the whole wide world’,
for this young lady, she is so much like the sun, an ultra violet, that she is just so colourful. Cuz of this, she defies all meaning of black and white,
and my feelings for her they begin to show, and in doing, become so wild, so vivid and so passionate, I fear they could instantaneously ignite
and in all the countries of the world we reside upon there would not be any kind of extinguisher
that could ever put out this beating heart of mine as it burns for her, and only her, its blazing fire.
Looking at her I shall admit never have I laid my eyes on such a splendid sight, never have I felt so good,
not even when I was living back in my mother country, residing in the comfort of my own neighborhood
did I ever feel this way. I remember looking at all of the beautiful women, back in Australia,
and not one of them ever made me feel the way this young lady does, this young lady who lives in America.
It is almost quite funny, for this world seems to no longer be on the right side up, for shouldn’t I love an Australian? Apparently, not in the world of upside down,
where found is always inexplicably lost, and lost is always remarkably found. Where depressed frowns are frequently terrific smiles, and terrific smiles are great depressed frowns,
for this young lady, this national icon, she is the view I have come to love, the view I love the most,
the view I will very easily come to cherish forever and ever on the entire east coast.
However, the world has a way of making even the most splendid of occurrences turn sour. Once men, women and children, now, all but monsters.
This is the unfortunate fate of all who have and had once, and are to have, experienced a lifetime of love, enjoyment, family and laughter.
I feel sorry for those souls, and feel solace for the woman before me as she says ‘be not only but the bastard who did me wrong,
but the young man, the one of whom I dream will one day discover me, my one and only, who would do me right with his righteous love song.’
‘I ain’t certain I can give you that’ I say, ‘I ain’t gonna try to be nothing I am not, for I ain’t perfect, of that I am sure,
but I fear I have become a taxing riddle in a poem that no one in their right mind wishes to bear witness to anymore.
In your eyes however I long for my redemption, and to grant to you a flawlessly sounding orchestra
that is to be my voice, talking from my heart as it beats eternally for you, wishing to be your lover.
So young lady, if you would please just listen to my voice, you might just hear my rhyme,
whilst I explain my soul intention on how I will love you for the rest of time.’
For as I stand next to her, I feel just so honored, I feel just so blessed. I can hear myself beside myself,
and I cannot wait to give to her all my love forever which is comparative to all of this world’s wealth.
‘So if you leave, wait up for me girl, because walking behind you I am, and more importantly, here I come.
I will have you know, I am loved by certain people, whilst on the other hand I may indeed be loathed by some.’
This however is but the nature of the game. ‘Think of me only as a man with several masks – one looks just so happy, the other, not so much,
but in the end I am nothing more than but a boy, pathetically little, foolish, terrified even, who is cursed with an insatiable crush.’
‘Don’t look at me with those glass eyes’ she says, with a great glass of bourbon in her hand. ‘This ain’t the time or place.
On top of this, that moustache, it ain’t foolin’ no one, so get it off, please get it off, get if off your face!
You needn’t ever look to me for permission, for guidance, for no such thing, for I ain’t your mother
fu-, I ain’t your flesh and blood sister, your great aunt, your high priestess, your biblical queen or your lover,
so please sir, leave me alone, for this ain’t the time for fun and foreplay, cuz I ain’t comin’ home with you tonight’
and I say, ‘I don’t need foreplay, I just need to be with you’ and then I ask, ‘is this honestly alright?’
‘If you want some action’ she says, ‘you’d better put your hands onto your dick,
and find yourself a good porno website pronto and quickly double click
on the movie that gets your chest pumpin’ and heart racin’.’ ‘Like I said’ I begin, ‘I don’t need anything like that, and I can understand if this seems kinda strange.’
‘You do, do you?’ asks the young woman as I shrug my head. ‘Actually no’ I say, ‘but you have to admit, there is every opportunity something’s gonna change.
I would like to think that change came walking through those double doors to stand before you now, and that such a change might just be
this young man, because I know what my heart is saying, and it is tellin’ out loud for all to hear; ‘girl, you get to me.’
In turn, I can hear your heart, and it ain’t as hardened as you would gladly have others believe. True, you may feel tortured, from a life that to me is blind, but your heart longs for me to kiss your lips
and I long to do so too, and this intense feeling of unshakable lust does not wish to go away for it feels just as I do now that such would be the beginning of a onetime trip
of my life.’ To this you calmly reply, after taking a swig ‘please, don’t kiss me, I don’t think I could take another lover no more,
for my heart is still in excruciating agony from my last deserter, and my unforgiving soul is still quite very sore.
I truly doubt’ she continues, ‘that you have ever been burned.’ ‘Don’t presume to know me’ I reply in response, ‘for you would be wrong. I have in fact been burnt,
several times in fact, but that was not the lesson I was to learn. True love will come again for you, and so here I am, and that is the lesson to be leant.
I know what I do long for, and I know the difference between fake and truth, which means this has to be real,
for if the love pounding in my chest was not, such a romantic storyline would not be what I do feel
for you. It’s like, better than anything you have ever experienced, better than anything that I know. It’s like, more than what I long for, it’s like this;
an unforgotten romantic fairytale beyond your wildest dreams and that’s what I long to give to you when I provide from my lips to yours, our first kiss.’
I remember when I first saw her, several weeks ago. I thought she was looking at him, then I thought she was looking at them, but no, she was looking at me.
Was she really? That is a question I have always wondered, but it has not prevented my heart from concocting scenarios, believing it was meant to be.
It feels like it happened years ago, and at the same time yesterday. Back then, I felt, the moment I looked upon her luscious face, that I must have travelled into an illusion, into a world unseen,
for women as beautiful as her could never be real. It turns out that I was wrong, something I am proud to admit, and to this day, you still look like the woman I fell in love with; like a beauty queen.
The Gods gave me the option of choice. They allowed me to pick the woman who was to be the girl of my dreams,
and that girl I wished for, the same one I stand beside now I humbly admit is her, it always was it seems.
Like all of the others she was beautiful, she was smart, she was so funny and cute,
but she had something else that made all of these qualities so undeniably moot;
she had me wrapped around her slender wedding finger, like an exotic diamond ring,
another accessory I was; another piece of jewelry, a piece of bling-bling,
and just like that, she had me right from the start with her words, and her mesmerising blue eyes;
something that filled the empty void inside me for the first time with a marvelous surprise,
but the one quality she had that bested all of these, the one thing that matters when push comes to shove,
is her unflinching, unbreakable, unbelievable, forever faithful, unconditional love.
SYNOPSIS: A piece about a woman, who, even if she does not realise it yet, has a man wrapped hopelessly around her finger.
She’s the girl like Aphrodite, Cleopatra and Cher;
what could I possibly give to her?
She’s the girl who looks so sweet,
it is her I long to meet.
She’s the girl with the crooked smile,
I’ll see her again in a little while.
She’s the girl who I’ve seen in my dreams,
dancing around wearing pale blue jeans.
She’s the girl who I dream to hold,
since meeting her my heart was sold.
She’s the girl who I want as mine,
who attends restaurants and drinks exquisite wine.
She’s the girl I always see,
who knows nothing about me.
She’s the girl with nothing to lose,
who’d enjoy dining on a romantic cruise.
She’s the girl who I’ve always dreamed to kiss;
whenever she’s gone it’s her I miss.
She’s the girl from the perfect town,
who I’ve seen smile, but never frown.
She’s the girl with the pretty face,
from the different culture and ethnic race.
She’s the girl I see everywhere I go,
and yet for her I’ve nothing to show.
She’s the girl with the luxurious car;
at night she swims in her gold spa.
She’s the girl with the truly beautiful eyes;
all across her magnificent body her beauty lies.
She’s the girl with the magnificent voice,
who I would love if given the choice.
She’s the girl who’s never being alone at night;
who’s exceptionally talented and extremely bright.
She’s the girl who visits me in my sleep,
whose memory makes my heart weep.
She’s the girl who keeps in contact by phone,
when dreaming of her I’m not alone.
She’s the girl who looks like Spring;
to her body birds will sing.
She’s the girl who lights up a room,
with her face she can make a flower bloom.
She’s the girl with the single greatest Heavenly body;
whose taste in clothes is of utmost luxury.
She’s the girl whose everything I’m not-
what can I give to her that she ain’t got?
She’s the only girl I will ever love,
who looks down on me from up above.